Now here I am in 2013, trying to figure out how to mark my latest trip around the sun (in writing, anyway – the real-life celebrations are being taken care of as I write this…). I’ve been tossing a few ideas around in my mind and brainstorming with a few of my closest friends, and what you’ll find below is a result of that process. Since my son turned nine last week (and because nine fits nicely into 45, but we all know the first reason sounds much better…), I’ve divided the list into five categories with nine items each, mostly in random order. I’ve included a slew of links to relevant old blog posts, and just for fun, I’ve linked almost every instance of the word “poetry” (or variations thereof) to a different poem of mine, so be sure to check those out too. You can hover over each link to read its brief description.

Every year in the days leading up to my birthday, I enter a period of self-reflection. I look back on the events of the past year and think about how they may have reshaped my life. In the years before we had our son (who arrived just over a week before my birthday back in 2004), I would often see my birthday as a milestone that marked another year of failing to achieve our goal of having a child, and of course, everything else just seemed to pale in comparison. These last six years with my son have been a gift that knows no bounds, and every birthday celebration of mine is now intertwined with the joy that his birth has brought me.

But I digress. The past year has been interesting, to say the least. I went from having two part-time positions in technical writing to becoming a full-time freelancer, having successfully managed to lose both jobs within weeks of one another. I’m certainly enjoying the variety that being a freelancer brings, not to mention the freedom to make my own schedule and do more of the writing that I actually enjoy (such as the pleasure I derive from writing poetry – a relatively new hobby, or the essays I submit to various anthologies); it also means that I have to work harder to ensure that I include social interaction with others. Of course, whatever my gripes might be with this new situation, it’s still infinitely better than my life before, when I was coming home every evening at 7:30, miserable and unable to find a satisfactory home-work balance. Now, my office consists of the corner of our blue, L-shaped couch (which is now at least several centimeters lower than every other part of the couch), and I’m trying to figure out which cappuccino maker to purchase (suggestions are welcome!), given that good coffee is missing from my life these days almost as much as good opportunities for social interaction. And, while I currently have a rather healthy load of writing projects, I’m always on the lookout for more, so feel free to give a shout if you think you’ve got something I might be interested in (end of professional plug). (more…)

The little boy – he’s six today; oh how the time does fly
The days that pass so quickly; the months that just rush by
Even now, I gaze in awe, unable to believe
The little boy in front of me, tugging at my sleeve

I take him in my arms, this little boy of mine
As I pull him close, his eyes begin to shine
A swirling of emotions; they take me by surprise
Overcome by love, and tears that prick my eyes

Less than seven years ago, we thought the dream had died
We thought we’d reached a journey’s end and God knows how we tried
But then somehow against all odds we managed to succeed
And suddenly “we two”, had turned into “we three”

To say my heart would burst – it sounds like a cliché
Mere words seem so inept for what I want to say
A thousand dreams could not foretell the love I’d find within
A thousand lights would pale, if held against your grin

And so my little boy, I wish the world for you
Your every heart’s desire, your every dream come true
And all I ask of you, my child, is hold me in your heart
Whenever we’re together; whenever we’re apart

At the Little One’s brit milah celebration, the Husband surprised me with a birthday cake of my own. My son was supposed to have been born on my birthday, but when the contractions began on the evening of May 26th, 2004, I knew that our birthdays were not going to be the same. He popped out shortly after 2am on the 28th, just over a week shy of my 36th birthday. Which means, of course, that today I’m 41 (and that my favorite blogger in Ireland is recovering from her birthday, which was yesterday – happy birthday, Beth!).

In honor of my 41st birthday, I’ve decided to take on the rather mammoth writing task of sharing 41 songs that either take me back to a specific point in time or have somehow made an impact on my life – both for better and for worse. I often receive requests to revive 80s Music Video Sunday (though most of the requests seem to come from Benji. Funny, that…), so while this is going to be a bit different, I hope you enjoy it.

Here it goes, in no particular order…

It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me, by Billy Joel. Most kids today have probably never seen an actual record. When I was little, I used to check Billy Joel’s “Glass Houses” record album out of the library on a regular basis, mostly to hear this song. I can still sing it word for word, which will no doubt come in handy when I go to see Billy Joel and Elton John perform in Albany, NY in late July. The process of purchasing the tickets provided excellent fodder for a blog post, but I think I’ll combine it into a post-concert entry. Which brings me to…

Crocodile Rock, by Elton John. This is one of the first songs I can actually remember hearing and singing along to on the car radio. I think I might actually start to grin like an idiot if he sings it during the concert.

I Saved the World Today, by the Eurythmics. Shortly before our second trip to London for the egg donation procedure, I felt like my life was spiraling out of control. It was shortly after September 11th, 2001. My parents planned to visit before our trip to London and I couldn’t give them precise dates because I still didn’t know what our precise dates were going to be. The logistics were a nightmare because airlines were changing their schedules. NRG and I were trying to coordinate medications, ultrasounds, and cycles, and our London-based clinic was suddenly trying to change the rules, asking us to come to London beforehand for a single appointment to get us started, instead of allowing us to work with our own local doctors as planned. Whenever I felt like I was about to lose it, listening to this song calmed me down. I must have played it more than 100 times.

Unforgettable, by Natalie Cole and Nat King Cole. This was our wedding song. We spent months trying to come up with a song, without success. While visiting a friend in New Orleans, I heard this song and knew straight away that this was the one. When the opening notes were played at the wedding, the guests responded with a collective “ooooh!”

Had a Bad Day, by Daniel Powter. This song was released in Israel shortly before the 2005 disengagement from Gaza. I’d started blogging again only several months earlier, at the urging my then blogging partner Anglosaxy. In the period leading up to the disengagement, the Anglo-Israeli blogosphere was on fire, and each day brought a new round of toxic, stomach-churning exchanges. There were days when I was afraid to read comments and open my inbox, and this was the song I played over and over.

Ani V’ata, by Arik Einshtein. This song, whose first line translates to “you and I will change the world”, and it’s the national song of the youth movement in which I grew up – Young Judaea. I can still remember the national summer convention when we voted to make it the movement’s official song. Those were the good old days, and hearing it now always takes me back.

Thank You, by Lionel Bastos. I don’t even remember how I stumbled upon this song, nor do I have a copy of it today – I can’t find one anywhere, nor can I find a clip of it on Youtube. Listening to it always reminded me of NRG and all that our friendship has given to me over the years. Hey Lionel, if you’re reading this – how do I score a copy of this amazing tune?

What a Wonderful World, by Louis Armstrong. This was the song I chose for the father-daughter dance at my wedding, and it’s also the song I used to sing to the Little One when he was a baby. Whenever he had trouble sleeping I’d carry him out to our porch and sing it softly into his ear, holding him close. Now that he’s older and wiser, he asks me not to sing at all. If you heard me sing, you’d make the same request…

Tears in Heaven, by Eric Clapton. Hearing this song always reminds me of our first son, whose name was Elad. I can’t listen to it without getting tears in my eyes, and even though I have it in my collection, I’ve decided I can’t have it on my mp3 player.

Oof Gozal, by Arik Einshtein. This song, whose title means “fly away little bird”, is essentially about empty nest syndrome. We chose to put the chorus of the song on Elad’s headstone – “fly away little bird; cut across the sky. Fly to wherever you desire to go”.

Corner of the Sky, from the Broadway musical “Pippin“. I learned this song in summer camp more than 20 years ago. I’ve often felt that I haven’t been in the right place, felt a need to find or create my own space in the world, so this song resonated with me from the first time I heard it. It still does.

Stairway to Heaven, by Led Zeppelin. That’s an easy one. I don’t know what school and youth group dances are like now, but back in the day, Stairway to Heaven was always the last song played. As the first notes were struck, there would be quick scan of the room followed by a calculated mad dash to find the slow dance partner who would be yours for a grand total of eight minutes and two seconds. I can remember at least two youth group friends who began the dance as friends, started making out, and ended up a couple for at least a year.

Brown Eyed Girl, by Van Morrison. Whenever I hear this song, I’m reminded of the impromptu performance on my wedding video, given by a small group of friends who were on Project Otzma with me, back in 1991-92. Definitely one of the more memorable moments from my wedding, along with the marathon best man’s toast, given by one of our closest friends – also an Otzma alum. More than 15 years later, he still gets teased about it.

Winds of Change, by the Scorpions. While on Otzma during the winter of 1991-92 (the last really wet, snowy winter in Israel), this song was by far the most popular song among the kids at the boarding school where we were volunteering (and where, incidentally, I also met my husband, who was the 11th grade counselor). Our experiences there as volunteers could probably fill several books.

Open Arms, by Journey. The first song I ever slow danced to, at my first USY weekend event in Clifton Park, NY, back in 1982. We didn’t make out, and we certainly didn’t become a couple. Rumor had it that he did, however, become a small-time drug dealer.

Cliffs of Dover, by Eric Johnson. Hearing this completely instrumental song makes me want to jump in the car, roll down the windows, and blast it through the streets of Boston, as one of my college roommates and I used to do during our senior year.

Don’t Stand So Close to Me, by The Police. I can barely recall why, but this song will always remind me of Beth, an old friend from camp. It was during the summer of 1982, and while the background completely escapes me, I do remember that we sang it and played it a lot that summer, and that it always drew an amusing reaction from Beth.

Easy Lover, by Phil Collins and Philip Bailey. Remember the days when you could win concert tickets over the radio by being the 14th caller after a certain song was played? I really wanted Phil Collins tickets, and this was the song we had to listen for. I dialed until my finger calloused (remember phone dials), but alas, it was not to be.

Total Eclipse of the Heart, by Bonnie Tyler. This song reminds me of a party I had in my parents’ basement when I was in 10th grade. Our school was hosting a group of Israeli high school students from southern town of Arad. We’re still very close with the young woman who stayed in our home, and feel like part of their family. Another interesting tidbit about this group is that it included Avi Balashnikov, who resigned this week from his post as director general of the state comptroller’s office – a post he took over only a few short months ago, upon resigning from his former position as director general of the Knesset. Despite the current controversy in which he’s currently embroiled, I have only fond memories of Avi who, it should be noted, had a full head of curly hair when I last saw him .

Wild World, by Cat Stevens. This was the song that our class sang to close the senior show, a longstanding tradition at my old high school that included a variety of skits and musical performances. This memory is from 1986. That’s right, fellow classmates – we graduated from high school 23 years ago. More than just a little stomach churning…

Hands Across America. Though people probably don’t remember this song as well as some of the other charity songs that were all the rage back in the mid-80s, I remember it well, singing it while holding hands with strangers in Washington DC on May 25th, 1986. Somewhere, I’ve still got my Hands Across America t-shirt, which I’m guessing will never, ever fit again.

Twist and Shout, by The Beatles. My brother and his friends performed this song in a never-ending loop to close the camp talent show one summer. Not only was it great to see my little bro garnering so much attention, but one of his “bandmates” (who’s been one of his best friends since nursery school) went on to form one of Atlanta, GA’s hottest bands – Soup. Definitely cool to hear your little brother’s best friend singing on your mp3 player.

Big Rock Candy Mountain, by Burl Ives. My parents had a lot of folk music albums around the house when I was growing up. Hearing this one always takes me back to the den in my parents’ old house, and in the memory, I’m always rather pint-sized.

Cold as Ice, by Foreigner. I was always a tomboy when I was a kid, and as much as I loved all the ball games they let us play during physical education classes, I hated with equal passion the times when we were asked to put together and perform solo dance or gymnastics routines. I was never very good at either, and the thought of having to be the center of attention – especially under these circumstances – left me paralyzed with fear. My completely inability to fulfill these tasks meant that I was fascinated by those who could, and one of these talented individuals was a girl named Lynne. I’ve never forgotten that this was the song that Lynne chose – a memory tinged with sadness ever since I learned that Lynne was one of those killed on Pan Am flight #103 over Lockerbie, Scotland.

It’s All Magic, by Nimrod Lev and Orly Perl. This Hebrew-language song received heavy airplay during the late fall and winter of 1998/99. At the time, Elad was in a hospital located an hour’s drive from home, and driving back and forth every day meant that I heard this song on a daily basis. I never even really liked it, but for me, it’s inextricably linked to those dark days, the long drives to and from the hospital as we took shifts to ensure that one of us was there all the time.

Yoya, by Kaveret. Anyone who went to Young Judaea’s Camp Tel Yehudah during the 80s should know this song. At the very least, they should be able to do the dance. Geek that I was, I taught myself the words.

Blue Moon, by The Marcels. When you’re an awkward sixth grade girl in the throes of your geek years, what would be your biggest nightmare? If you guessed being asked to stand and then being serenaded by an all male a cappella singing group in your cousin’s fraternity house at Cornell University during homecoming weekend, you’d be right. Some scars memories never fade.

Little Star, by The Elegants. I did not have the cool 4th grade teacher. The cool 4th grade teacher was Mr. Reber. The kids in Mr. Reber’s class got to sing this awesome 50s song in their class play. I don’t remember what our class did for the class play. I don’t even remember that we had a class play.

Stumblin’ In, by Suzi Quatro and Chris Norman. I’m the person you want on your Trivial Pursuit team. I’ve got a head full of useless entertainment trivia, which is why I didn’t even have to think back in the spring of 1991 when the radio DJ asked who played Leather Tuscadero on Happy Days – Suzi Quatro. Hearing this song always reminds of that proud moment, even though I can’t actually recall if we won or not.

Sugar Sugar, by The Archies. When we were kids, my friend Amy had the coolest bedroom ever. It was in the basement of her family’s house, and in addition to the regular stairs leading down to the main part, Amy had a spiral staircase in her room, leading up to the ground floor. And, if that weren’t enough, you had to walk up two or three steps to get to her bed, which was surrounded by a wide frame. Hours and hours were spent jumping up and down on her bed while listening to this song, and hearing it always reminds me Amy and her fabulous room.

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. We lived on a great street growing up, with amazing neighbors all around. Every year, our next door neighbors would invite us to their annual Christmas party, and one year, one of the oldest daughters (one sister from a set of twins) surprised her parents with a recording of herself and a friend, singing this song. To this day, I believe that was the most beautiful version of this song that I’ve heard, and hearing any other version always reminds me of that one.

Rainbow Connection, by Kermit the Frog. Starting a new job is always stressful, especially when you get hit with massive amounts of work to do from day one. What makes the late nights in the office easier to bear? Copious amounts of pizza and singing along to the Muppets with your brand new colleagues.

Yom Shishi, by Benzene. We had music counselors in camp, and without exception, they all played a rather mean accordion – a necessity when singing those old Israeli songs. Then Jay came along, and Jay had an electric synthesizer. Jay rocked our world with his modern technology, and taught us songs that sounded much better when accompanied by a synthesizer than by an accordion. Yom shishi, which means “Friday”, was one of those songs. It quickly became a favorite, and nothing quite beats hearing it sung in a roar by 200 American teenagers.

You’ve Got a Friend, by James Taylor. A perennial youth group favorite, hearing this song always takes me back. In my mind, I can still see the lyrics printed out in the purple toner, having been typed up using a typewriter and printed out using carbon paper.

Hey! Coming up with 41 songs that have impacted your life is not easy! It’s not a matter of simply listing songs I like – there has to be a reason, there has to be some meaning, some memory. And, since I also decided that I don’t want to recycle too many 80s Music Video Sunday songs, I’ve automatically disqualified a multitude of old faves. So, after wracking my brain for days to come up with a full list of 41 new songs, I’ve only managed to come up with 35. Therefore, I’ve got a challenge for you. For those of you who know me – or those of you who think you know me, I’d love to know what songs make you think of me? What songs take you back to some experience we may have shared? I’m waiting…

***** Update*****

A special thank you goes out to the friend who actually managed to get me a copy of Lionel Bastos’ song “Thank You”, mentioned above as song number 7. You’re amazing!

The celebrations began two days ago with a field trip. As the Little One’s birthday falls on Shavuot this year (which begins today), we opted for an alternative sort of birthday party, taking his entire pre-school to the Old Courtyard at Kibbutz Ein Shemer. The kids harvested wheat, made flour (a very practical skill, no doubt), went for a tractor ride to the fields, and made rolls, and because it was the Little One’s birthday party (kudos to me for creating an invitation that included both wheat stalks and Ben 10 – the current object of my son’s affections), he was the star, always chosen to help with tasks and demonstrations. And, during the course of this wonderful, magical morning, there was one moment that stood out above all others, one moment when I knew with absolute certainty that this was my son. The look of pure joy on his face as the baby calf suckled away on his fingers left no room for doubt that my boy was just like me.

I’ve written a lot about the Little One here over the years, and in honor of his fifth birthday, I thought I’d share five of my favorite posts.

My original plan here was to post a clip of Danny Kaye singing his wonderful children’s song “I’m Five“, but hours of searching have proved fruitless. I did, however, manage to find a version of Robin singing it on the Muppet Show. The song begins at the 3:37 mark and is approximately one minute long.

12. I played Little League baseball/girls’ softball for ten years. My favorite position was first base, though at one point or another, I also played at second and third bases, shortstop, and pitcher (in softball). I’ve also played the outfield.

14. When I was in fifth grade, I won a pre-Thanksgiving archery competition. First prize was a 20-pound turkey.

15. I was born in Brooklyn, NY, and lived in Staten Island, NY until I was six years old.

16. I missed my kindergarten graduation when we moved.

17. One of the earliest memories I have is being in my grandparents’ synagogue in Brooklyn when an elderly woman – Mrs. Goodman – fell down a flight of steps. I can still remember watching her being carried up the steps.

18. I’ve been a New York Yankees fan for as long as I can remember. This did not make me terribly popular during baseball season when I was living in Boston.

19. My mother once had to take me home from a birthday party because I was petrified of the clown. I still don’t like clowns, though I no longer run away screaming and crying at the sight of them.

20. I was in the Brownies, and I still remember the song we sang at every meeting. I never made it to Girl Scout level. I do, however, like Girl Scout Cookies, especially Samoas. I do not like Thin Mints.

21. I liked Hebrew school. Enough said.

22. I can’t ski. I was in the lowest level at Maple Ridge Ski School, and they had to bring in a private instructor because I couldn’t keep up.

23. I’m a sucker for certain accents, and have even gone out on dates with guys just because they had these accents (though not since meeting my husband, obviously).

24. I’ve never been really drunk, nor have I ever been stoned. I’ve never had a hangover.

29. I also sent a letter to Amy Carter, during her father’s election campaign. She typed her own response and sent it back. I’m glad I never sent a letter to her father.

30. I grew up with the wife of one of our local bloggers, and have been friends with another local blogger since meeting in the bus station in Schenectady, NY when we were teenagers.

31. My parents took me on the NY subway when I was a little girl. I believe they very nearly crapped themselves when I pointed out a black man and said, “Look, a robber.”

32. My friend Sheri and I refer to a certain period of our lives as “the geek years”. Today, Sheri is gorgeous, successful, and very hip. I, on the other hand, am still stuck in the geek years. And I still use the word “hip”.

33. I cried when my sixth grade social studies teacher – Mrs. Tolar – made me stay after school on my birthday.

35. I hate being the center of attention, and more often than not, I blush when given any kind of compliment.

36. I know at least three other people who also have birthdays today. One of them is my brother-in-law.

37. I knew I was going to marry my husband two weeks after we started seeing each other.

38. I never sleep on the train during my commute, no matter how tired I am. I’m more concerned about drawing attention by snoring than I am about missing my station.

39. If I could have lunch with any famous person, it would probably be Bill Bryson, whose writing style not only keeps me in hysterics, but also influences my own style. At times, his writing inspires me to keep writing.
40. I still have no idea what I want for my birthday.

Four years ago today, everything changed. The Little One pushed his way into the world, hijacking our lives and our hearts. I spent a good part of those first few weeks crying, usually when I set eyes upon the little guy, but often while watching random television commercials as well. Officially, I chalk it up to the hormones that were raging around my body, but there’s also a big part of me that believes I just couldn’t get over our great fortune, that we’d finally, finally managed to have a child.

I was almost at a loss, really. After nine years of trying, failing, trying again, suffering, agonizing, here we were. One epidural, four units of blood and four units of plasma later (because god forbid I should have an easy, uneventful birth with no nearly fatal surprises), the race was suddenly over. And it was strange. Strange that everything we’d been through was now behind us, that we were no longer struggling to achieve what so many others around us had achieved with relative ease. Strange that the battle that had been with us constantly, the struggle that had been the very center of our lives, was now a moot issue. I can’t even begin to describe how that felt, to realize that we no longer had to deal with this all-consuming saga that seemingly affected every aspect of our lives, every decision we had to make. Every. Single. One.

Not only had we finally succeeded, but with the Little One, we hit the jackpot, far surpassing our wildest dreams. We have a warm, intelligent, charming little boy with a marvelous (bordering on devilish at times – where did that came from…) sense of humor, a twinkle in his eye, and a smile that makes his whole face light up. And, while there are certainly times when we’d be happy to auction him off to the highest bidder (or perhaps pay someone to take him), we are very much aware of how truly blessed we are to have this beautiful little boy in our lives, especially today, on his fourth birthday.

“Section 1: How You Approach Life and How You Appear To Others – Modest, unobtrusive, and often rather quiet or shy, you are a person who is content to be in the background or to serve as an assistant, in the supporting role rather than in the lead. You are quite humble in your own assessment of yourself and you have a very strong perfectionistic attitude, with a tendency to be overly self-critical. No matter how well you do something, you always see the flaws in it and how it could be improved. Often you will simply refuse to attempt something because you feel you cannot meet your own high standards.”